Of Consequence
by Mary James
Summary: Aziraphale falls, but not without consequence.Slash. AziraphaleCrowley, CrowleyAdam, implied AdamAziraphale


_Of Consequence_

It was nothing of great consequence to Crowley when an angel fell. It happened all the time. One way or another, temptation would get the best of you. It just took others longer than some.

* * *

Crowley had been noticing things. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed them before, it was just that prior to this point in time they weren't as noticeable. Like the slant of the now twenty-seven year old Adam's cheekbones, or the way his blond curls fell across those deep blue eyes.  
He was like a fine piece of art. And Crowley liked fine things.  
Besides, the first Adam hadn't proved to be much when it came to fighting temptation. Why should the second be any trouble? Except, of course, that he was an Antichrist.

* * *

Aziraphale peered through his glasses at the menu.  
"Do you really need to read the menu? You already know what you want."  
Aziraphale glanced up at Crowley briefly before folding the menu neatly in front of him.  
"Old habit." 

The waiter brought over the bottle of wine and took their orders, taking the menus with him. Aziraphale watched Crowley. Crowley fidgeted.

"I know what you're doing Crowley. It's obscene."  
Crowley's eyes danced, this was too rich. "What am I doing Angel?"

Aziraphale gave him the look he hated, the one that made him want to wither into the ground. He grinned in spite of it. Aziraphale looked unhappy.

"Now seriously Crowley, he's the Antichrist. We're supposed to keeping an eye on him. Godfathers, remember? You are not supposed to be tempting him. I know it's your job, but really dear boy. Do you remember what happened to the last Adam _They_ commissioned?"

"Mankind was created? The Earth was basically set into motion? Of course I remember what happened last time! I was responsible!"

Aziraphale looked at him over the rim of his glasses. "Yes, and no. He was tempted, and he fell from grace."  
Crowley downed a glass of wine. "I know what I'm doing Angel."

"If you say so. Just…"  
Crowley watched him expectantly, raising an eyebrow.  
"…nevermind."

Aziraphale started into his salad and Crowley smiled contentedly to himself, mulling over his wiles.

* * *

It had been raining lately. But it had been raining lately for years in London.

They were sitting in a smoky coffeehouse, talking in low voices, and Adam's eyes looked lit in the dim lighting. Crowley licked his lips, and Adam sipped at a mocha and gestured a lot with his hands when he talked. Every once in a while, someone would steal a glance of them. They made quite the pair, after all.

Something in Crowley longed to see Adam and Aziraphale together, side by side, they looked so much alike. He could pick and choose…Under the table, he ran a hand up the inside of Adam's thigh.

* * *

Aziraphale was upset. And the tea wasn't helping. He put down his book and took off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. It had rained yesterday, it was raining today. As far as he could remember, it had rained all of last week. And Crowley hadn't been by at all. He thought suddenly of Adam. Of Adam with Crowley. Why hadn't he been by?

The door slammed shut and Crowley swept in, the wind and the rain behind him.  
"Lovely weather we're having." He shoved his shades into his coat pocket and leant against the counter.

"You do realize it is raining outside, thus defeating the purpose of sunglasses, don't you?"

"I'm accessorizing. And besides, I look good in them. They accentuate my cheekbones." He patted his cheek as if to demonstrate.  
They did make his cheekbones stand out, Aziraphale would agree with him there. But Crowley could have been carved out of marble, so it wasn't as if his cheekbones needed any more accentuating. Aziraphale drained the rest of the tea from his cup in one go.

"Lunch?"  
"It's three o'clock Crowley."  
"Tea?"  
Aziraphale motioned towards the empty cup, now sitting before him.

"Perhaps I could tempt you to an early supper then?"  
"Enough. I don't need any more temptations as it is." Aziraphale said, grimacing.

Crowley cocked one eyebrow. "You? Tempted?"  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
"Well you're an angel, you wouldn't want to talk about that kind of thing now would you?"

"I'm a disgrace to the title of Angel."  
"That bad eh? Well, it's not completely horrible being a demon you know." Crowley gave him a sly look.

Aziraphale glared at him, in an angelic sort of way.

"It's actually a good deal of fun." Crowley mused.  
"Not now Crowley."

"Alright, if you insist." The demon fished for his sunglasses, and finding them, stepped back out into the rain.  
Aziraphale groaned and put his head in his hands. And then he did some serious thinking that would later have some serious consequences.

* * *

When Adam came, parts of the world shook. Crowley could feel it, inside of his entire being. If Adam hadn't been so damn tempting in the first place, Crowley would never even have bothered with tempting him.  
Actually, he probably would have anyway. He _was_ a demon after all, he had to keep up appearances.

Because together they were sharp lines and smooth alabaster skin. Cut angles that almost fit together, just a little too rough around the edges. And the thing about an Antichrist was, that they could probably fuck until the Earth came to an end. And if this was what the Armageddon was like, then it couldn't come fast enough for Crowley.

* * *

The next day there was a message on Crowley's answering machine from Aziraphale.  
And the rain had finally stopped.

* * *

It couldn't have been helped. It was fate. It was ineffable. Adam had come looking for Crowley, and instead found a very confused Aziraphale. It had been a moral struggle, a physical struggle.  
And in end, it hadn't taken much to topple the angel. He had, after centuries of being saintly, resigned himself to the fact that he was very tired. Tired of watching everyone else get what they want, chasing after their heart's desires. Tired of watching Crowley have all of the fun.  
Being a heavenly being got a bit dull after a couple of millennia.

* * *

Crowley wasn't sure what he would find inside the small bookstore. The angel had left him shaky message, something about Adam and being tired of something and it was all just very confused sounding. But in all honesty, Crowley was a little bit worried. He opened the door tentatively and looked in. Dusty light filtered in through the windows, and a few scattered books lay open on the floor. Crowley didn't see any trace of Aziraphale.

"Angel? Hey, Aziraphale."

There was a rustling somewhere in the back corner. Crowley side-stepped the books, walked the length of the last aisle, and turned the corner. What he found could be described as a weeping mass of feathers.  
Grey feathers. That he knew would get darker. His own had, after all.

"Ah Christ Aziraphale…"

The angel, if he could still be considered one, folded back his darkening wings. Crowley kneeled next to him.  
"I was so tired of it Crowley, of all of it. And Adam-"  
"Adam?" Crowley's eyes darkened.  
"Adam. He was…he was it. He left, he didn't know what to do." Aziraphale let out a great sob. "What am I going to do Crowley?"

"Whoa Angel…" Crowley brushed a lock of hair away from Aziraphale's face. "You mean Adam and, all of this? And you fell?"

"It's done Crowley. It's over. I'm done…"  
Crowley touched the darkening wings, then the side of the fallen angel's face, and felt a deep pang of jealousy. He had never known he was capable of jealousy. Demons didn't really have feelings. 'Correction,' he though to himself, 'this complete fool of a demon does.'  
Aziraphale was watching him.

"You fell for Adam? After all these years, you fell for him?" Crowley asked trying not to sound too outraged.  
"You're hurt. Crowley, you're jealous." the former angel remarked softly.

"Damn it Aziraphale, why'd you have to do this?" he murmured wearily, rocking back on his heels and standing up.

"Crowley, in the six thousand years we've known each other I'd never once felt free will. Do you know what it was like, to finally feel that?" Aziraphale asked, tucking his wings in and rising from the floor.

"Of course I sodding know what it feels like! What do you think Adam was here for Aziraphale? Looking for you? Looking to tempt you into falling? I just want to know why Angel, why him? Why now? Cause the devil knows I sure did try and you never fell for me!" Crowley shouted.

Aziraphale was silent. Crowley took a deep breath.

"Are you done now?"  
"Yes."  
"Good."  
Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's shoulders and pushed him into the bookshelf behind him, kissing him violently while Crowley struggled for breath.

"Bloody hell Crowley," Aziraphale managed, "That's why. You. All I wanted was sodding you."  
Crowley stared at him, and then laughed. He leant forward, undoing buttons with his fingers and tracing the line of Aziraphale's jaw with his mouth.

"And Adam?" Crowley quite nearly purred, toying with the belt buckle.  
Aziraphale moaned. "He was…he was nothing. Never will be…" And oh, god, that definitely shouldn't feel that good…

Crowley leant in and whispered things in his ear, biting his earlobe and Aziraphale felt like this could go on no longer or he just might scream. And then he almost did, and Crowley kissed him hard enough to bruise and ran his free hand up his side.  
Aziraphale collapsed into the demon's body before Crowley murmured something about upstairs and a bed.

They barely made it up the steps.

* * *

Crowley was inexpressibly happy. He was always happy when he had gotten something he'd wanted, but this was different. This was a complete happiness.  
He would go and tell Adam that he was sorry for tempting him…or was he really that sorry? 

It didn't matter.

He hummed a song to himself and crossed the street, winking at all the young girls he passed. He was going home. And for the first time, home didn't mean Hell for Crowley. Home meant dusty bookshelves and a small flat and someone he'd waited for what seemed like a very long forever for. He was going home to make up for a complete and utter waste of six thousand years.

Crowley grinned.  
Things were definitely looking up.


End file.
